Dumfries

by Todd, Ian

  “And you’ll be John Taylor, eighteen-years-auld and serving fourteen years fur attempting tae murder two poor serving polis officers while robbing a bank. Is that correct?” she demanded, rather than asked, eyeing him up wae the usual ‘Ah know you, so don’t think ye’ll get away wae getting wan o’er oan me’ looks that jail civvy workers tended tae come oot wae oan meeting an inmate they hidnae come across before, especially if there wis a screw present tae keep them fae getting assaulted or verbally abused.

  “Aye, Ah believe that’s whit it said oan the indictment,” he confirmed pleasantly.

  “Oh, Ah see. So, ye don’t agree wae the charge then?” she scowled, exaggerating her supposed superiority and toughness, fur the benefit ae the two loafers tae the right ae her.

  Johnboy wondered, no fur the first time since sitting doon, whether he should gie the stupid cow the time ae day. His mind wis still oan whit wis sitting back oot in the main reception room. He hoped he hidnae blown his chances by no getting in there when the opportunity hid risen. It hid been the screws fannying aboot, blatantly advertising tae everywan that they wur up tae something, that hid unsettled him.

  “Personally masel, Ah think attempted murder wis stretching it a bit,” he eventually replied.

  “Oh, ye dae, dae ye? Discharging a sawn–aff shotgun in a public arena tae the severe injury ae the poor polis officers wisnae an attempt tae murder them then?”

  “Ah widnae know.”

  “Oh really? So, whit dae ye know then?”

  Silence.

  “Answer the question, Taylor,” The Chief growled, irritation showing in that voice ae his, this early in the meeting.

  “Whit the fuck his this goat tae dae wae her, eh?”

  “She’s part ae the management team ae this establishment. If we’re tae assess yer suitability as tae whether ye dae yer time in a training establishment, then we need an insight intae yer suitability, so we dae. Oor job is tae ask the questions here and your job is tae answer them,” the AG informed him, speaking fur the first time.

  “This is the first day ae yer rehabilitation journey, so it is. It aw starts here. Ah’d advise ye tae listen up, and listen up good,” she spat at him, obviously encouraged by the support oan show.

  “You? Rehabilitate somewan like me?” he scoffed, no being able tae contain himsel fae laughing oot loud. “Ye’ve mair chance ae finding yersel a man aboot here than ye hiv ae rehabilitating me. Dream oan, ya imposter, ye.”

  “Look, let’s move oan, shall we?” The Chief, who wis the real boss aboot there, demanded, clearly getting fed up awready wae the disturbance unfolding in front ae him.

  “Whit skills dae ye hiv?” The AG asked pleasantly, as Mrs Management sat there, in the huff wae The AG fur no reprimanding him fur accusing her ae being an ugly basturt.

  “Whit ur ye looking fur?” Johnboy asked, noticing The Chief rolling they eyes ae his heavenward.

  “Whit makes scum like you hate aw us wummin, eh?” she demanded tae know, no able tae contain using that auld defensive, social work chestnut, that he’d heard umpteen times in the past, when the accuser wae the chain and key attached tae her waist, took umbrage at his less than respectful attitude.

  “Ah know a ton ae wummin who ur far mair equal in ma eyes than maist men Ah know. Unfortunately in your case, you’d certainly no qualify as wan ae them.”

  “See, Ah knew as soon as Ah clapped eyes oan this wan…another wummin hater! His file speaks fur itsel,” she spat, wae a wave ae her nicotine-stained fingers, as The Chief shut his eyes and the AG turned and hauf smiled at her, the baith ae them clearly no being able tae contain themsels, hivving telepathically decided tae let her stew in her ain juices fur the time being, allowing Johnboy tae take the flair.

  Silence.

  “The difference between somewan like you and me is that Ah don’t go aboot accusing somewan ae hating me because ae ma sex, jist because Ah don’t like the fact that they’ve judged me oan whit they’ve read in some poxy, made-up prison file. Ah judge people based oan whit Ah see in the whites ae their eyes when Ah meet them,” he hit her wae, as The Chief opened his eyes and the faint wee smile reappeared oan the corner ae The AG’s flaky, cracked lips again.

  “That’s enough Taylor,” he warned him.

  “Ye’re no making this easy fur us,” she grumpily mumbled, sick as a pig, clearly no happy that The Chief and AG hid joined thegither in unison and dumped her at his feet fur some sick sense ae humour known only tae them, as if Johnboy gied a monkey’s fuck how she felt.

  “Jist answer the question so we kin get this o’er and done wae,” The Chief sighed, the game o’er wae.

  “Whit wis the question again?”

  “Whit skills dae ye hiv?” Mrs Management spat at him before The AG, who’d asked the question in the first place, could get in there.

  “Selling stuff,” he answered eventually, taking heed ae the vein oan the side ae The Chief’s temple, throbbing away like a sandworm, that wis looking fur a way oot.

  “Experience in sales,” she mumbled, purple-white, spongy-looking tongue protruding fae the side ae that nicotine-stained upper lip ae hers, as she wrote doon his reply. “Anything in particular?”

  “Furniture.”

  “Wis that retailing in a shoap?” the daft cow asked him, as baith The Chief and The AG smiled.

  “Supply.”

  “If we wur tae put ye tae Saughton, oor main training establishment in Edinburgh, wid ye be willing tae learn a trade, Taylor?” The AG asked, sounding fed up.

  “It wid depend oan whit ye’re looking fur?” Johnboy replied, shrugging they shoulders ae his and looking across at The Chief, hauf expecting some sort ae acknowledgement and appreciation fur his participation in the charade being played oot in front ae everywan.

  “Well, we’re always oan the look-oot fur barbers,” Mrs Part-ae-The-Management-Team declared. “How dis that sound?”

  Johnboy slowly coonted tae ten, watching her sitting there, eagerly looking across at him, genuinely and naively expecting a response that didnae involve him telling her tae go and fuck hersel.

  “Nah, Ah think it’s ma co-accused ye’re looking fur, so it is. He worked in a barber shoap fur a few years doon oan the High Street. Ah don’t think he’s goat any paper qualifications though. He’d be yer best bet there.”

  “Ur you being insolent again, Taylor?” the AG demanded tae know, an edge creeping in tae that voice ae his.

  Silence.

  “If we offered ye a place in Saughton, whit wid yer response be?” Mrs Management asked him.

  “Whit’s the alternative?”

  “Well, there’s Dumfries Young Offenders Institution,” she hit him wae, clearly expecting him tae break doon and beg no tae be sent there.

  “So, Ah hiv a choice then?”

  “Ye hiv nothing, Taylor. We decide everything concerning scum like you. Whit we say goes aboot here, and everywhere else that that arse ae yours ends up in, o’er the next fourteen years,” The Chief reminded him, wee triumphant smirks appearing oan the three sets ae lips opposite ae him.

  “Oh, right then, well that’s cleared that wan up,” he’d replied, cheerfully. “As far as Ah’m concerned, wan shit hole’s jist as bad as any other, so Ah’ll jist leave the decision up tae yersels, if that’s okay?” he replied pleasantly, trying tae keep that grin ae his respectfully understated.

  “So, ye want tae end up in Dumfries then?” she persisted, fur some unknown, stupid reason, still trying tae make it sound like a threat or something.

  “Fine and dandy fae ma side ae the desk, so it is.”

  “Ah think we’ve heard enough, Governor,” The Chief snarled, slitted-eyes boring intae Johnboy’s.

  “Incredible! Absolutely nae respect fur authority this wan, so he hisnae,” the social worker announced tae her two sidekicks, talking as if Johnboy hid awready left the room.

  “Aye…well, we’ll leave it there, Taylor. We’ll let ye know in a couple ae days, wance we make oor d
ecision,” The AG informed him, shutting o’er his folder.

  Johnboy heard wan ae the screws behind him yank open the door before he’d even lifted that arse ae his aff ae the chair. When he stood up and turned, he couldnae help smiling at the astonished faces ae the two screws oan either side ae him, as he took aff at a gallop through the door intae the reception waiting room. The Scowler, that twisted face ae his crumbling in tae a panic-stricken look ae horror, tried unsuccessfully tae staun up tae defend himsel. Johnboy caught him full in the face wae his size ten, prison-issue leather-soled shoe. Baby Bear’s heid, followed by his body, flew upwards oot ae his seat, as the back ae his heid ricocheted aff ae the lilac painted brick wall behind him, before rebounding forward, nose-diving towards the broon lino. Johnboy hid awready danced a step backwards in anticipation and positioned himsel wae the heavy chipped chair held aloft in baith hauns, before whacking it as hard as he could muster, across the back ae that big thick heid and shoulders before any ae the screws hid a chance tae react. The screws that hid been lounging doon at the other end ae the room while their other two pals hid escorted him intae the interview room, suddenly aw charged forward towards him, impersonating a rugby scrum, while at the same time, withdrawing their batons fae their trooser pockets. He heard Miss Management let oot a frightened, howling scream behind him, as he flung the chair that hid jist bounced aff ae The Scowler’s napper, horizontally alang the lino, skiting towards the charging mass. He could jist remember seeing them toppling o’er like a bunch ae skittles, before an explosion went aff inside the back ae that heid ae his.

  “Good evening. My name is John Turney and these are the news headlines in Scotland tonight.

  Three Corporation tenant families had to be removed from their homes under police escort in Cranhill last night after local people took the law into their own hands by storming the residents’ houses after it was believed that the area’s major drug distributors lived there. A police spokesman urged people not to take the law into their own hands and to let the police deal with criminality…

  Police believe organised criminals in the city are responsible for ten thousand pounds worth of carpets being stolen from JMC Carpets warehouse in Finnieston. Police sources said that it must have taken the criminals some time to remove the carpets and are appealing for witnesses…

  Police have raided three houses in the west end of the city, believed to have been operating as upmarket brothels, in the early hours of this morning. Owner of one of the premises, a Mrs Bella McPhail, claimed that her house was a gentlemen’s hotel, catering for travelling salesmen, and that she had no idea why the police would believe she was running a house of ill-repute. Father Henry Coil from nearby St Luscious of Our Lord Chapel has demanded that police do more to shut these dens of iniquity…

  The body of a young women, believed to be a prostitute, has been found in a city centre lane, just off Bothwell Street earlier this morning, as office workers arrived for work. It’s believed the women is known to undercover police who patrol the area’s red light district…”

  Chapter Ten

  Alex McRae looked up. Fanny Flaw hid jist pulled up in her wee faded-blue Citroen 2CV6. His windae wis open tae allow some air in, so he heard the car before he saw it. It sounded like his wife’s sewing machine. Fanny hid bought it jist o’er a month earlier and hid picked it up before starting her shift oan a beautiful sunny spring morning. She’d convinced Alex tae drap her aff tae collect it. Oan the way in tae work that morning, she’d rolled back the canvas roof oan it tae bask in the sunshine that streamed doon oan tae that mousy fair hair ae hers. Two hunner yards further oan, the heavens hid opened up and she’d turned up at the staff conference meeting wae her bag ae files swimming in fine fresh Solway Firth rainwater. Alex stood up and strolled across tae the windae. He watched, amused, as she applied the haunbrake and switched aff the engine. The car started tae roll backwards as she wis bent o’er lifting up her work bag fae the foot-well oan the passenger’s side. When he clocked her heid reappearing, his smile widened, watching her panic, as she slammed oan the brakes in the middle ae the parking lot. The sewing machine coughed back in tae life again and she moved back tae her original stationary position. He noticed that she used baith hauns tae apply the haunbrake this time and sat looking aboot wae the same palms hovering three or four inches above the steering wheel tae make sure she wisnae moving, before switching aff the engine again. Although he widnae dream ae telling her that he’d missed her when she wis away, he wis delighted tae hiv her back. The place hid been like a morgue these past few weeks. She’d been like a breath ae fresh air when she’d joined the social work team in Dumfries, even though she spent maist ae her time up at the Young Offenders Institution. It hid been the first time in his twenty five years as a probation officer and then a social worker that he’d felt like he wis the wan that hid been getting interviewed by the candidate insteid ae the other way roond. He didnae agree wae everything she said or did, bit she hid the enthusiasm ae youth oan her side. In fact, at twenty seven, she wis the youngest member ae the staff team by at least fifteen years. In the eight months that she’d been working up at the jail, she’d dealt wae mair self-referrals than her predecessor hid in the nine years that she’d been idling away her time up there.

  “If Ah wis locked up in that place and a relatively nice looking dolly-bird replaced auld crabbit-arsed Betty, Ah’m sure Ah’d be looking fur any excuse tae sign up fur a chat, so Ah wid,” Cocky Miller hid said, no long efter Fanny hid started producing results.

  “Naw, she’s goat something, that lassie, so she his,” he’d replied.

  “Aye, it’s called a poontang. She’s well-named tae be working up there amongst aw that young crowd. She’s no exactly Raquel Welsh, bit fae where they’re coming fae, she’ll be manna fae heaven in the wanking material stakes,” Cocky hid snidely remarked.

  Cocky wis the department lothario. Wummin either couldnae staun the sight ae him or they toppled at the onslaught ae his flirting charms before being unceremoniously dumped wance he’d goat whit he wis efter. He wis in his early fifties, bit dressed like a twenty-year-auld oot ae West Side Story, bandanas being especially tae the fore wrapped roond that neck ae his. Alex’s wife, Barbara, hid banned Cocky fae the hoose efter he’d made a pass at her while supposedly comforting her at her maw’s wake. Alex hid tried tae reason wae her, bit her word wis law beyond the threshold ae the McRae front door. Cocky never mentioned no being invited aroond efter that, bit Alex suspected that he knew the reason. Cocky hid never been married and believed he wis God’s gift tae wumminhood. He didnae take it lightly if his advances wur spurned or rejected. Alex wisnae sure if Fanny wis popular fae the word go because she’d put Cocky in his place at an area meeting, in front ae everywan, a few days efter she’d started, or whether it wis because she wis jist a genuinely likeable person. When Cocky hid started flirting wae her at that first meeting, Alex remembered aw the other social workers looking at Fanny wae interest tae see whit her reaction wid be. At first, she’d jist ignored Cocky, bit when he upped his game and persisted, Fanny hid turned tae the other staff in the team behind Cocky’s back and stuck two fingers doon her throat, pretending that she wis aboot tae throw up. It hid been bloody hilarious. Aw the staff, especially the wummin, hidnae been able tae contain themsels, and hid aw burst oot cackling like a gaggle ae geese. That hid been that. Cocky hid left her well alane, bit it hidnae stoapped him coming oot wae wee snidey comments when she wis oot ae ear-shot.